n, after a moment's hesitation, she went up to the door of the room
next to Maggie's and knocked.

There was a moment's silence, then a constrained voice said:

"Come in."

Nancy entered at once.

Priscilla Peel was standing in the center of the room. The electric
light was turned on, revealing the bareness and absence of all
ornament of the apartment; a fire was laid in the grate but not lit,
and Priscilla's ugly square trunk, its canvas covering removed, stood
in a prominent position, half on the hearthrug, half on the square of
carpet which covered the center of the floor. Priscilla had taken off
her jacket and hat. She had washed her hands, and removed her muddy
boots, and smoothed out her straight, light brown hair. She looked
what she felt-- a very stiff and unformed specimen of girlhood. There
was a great lump in her throat, brought there by mingled nervousness
and home-sickness, but that very fact only made her manner icy and
repellent.